


homin | 동빵신기

by plincess_cho (ai_hao)



Series: Domestic Life | Yunho x Changmin [9]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Gen, homin buying bread, non-au, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 13:05:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11185710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ai_hao/pseuds/plincess_cho
Summary: Changmin and Yunho buy bread.





	homin | 동빵신기

Changmin first tries cornbread on one of his birthdays in middle school. His parents had taken him and his sisters out to some supposedly ‘American’ restaurant in the expat corner of town to celebrate the occasion.  It tastes different than he’d expected: the bread is coarse, beguiling a subtle sweetness that Changmin enjoys. He trades his sister a corn cob for her muffin and decides he’s found his new favorite bread.  
  
*  
  
They spend the first few years as DBSK very, very poor. Yunho suspects Leeteuk has been pilfering from his savings jar, but refuses to confront him.  
  
“Super Junior is in the same state as we are,” he says. “Besides, there are twelve of them and only five of us. We can make do.”  
  
The other four grumble, but since it’s mostly Yunho’s money, they can’t argue.    
  
Any money they do get is usually spent on food. They have a few ramyeon shops nearby that they frequent, and there’s a cheap bbq place a few blocks over. The boys rarely have time to take leisurely meals and as a result, often order a lot of delivery.  
  
Every so often, the members will get food cravings for something they remember eating as a kid. Some days, it’s a specific type of meat. Other days, it’s a rice dish that they just can’t seem to find around the dorm complex.  
  
Then one day, Changmin gets an overwhelming craving for the cornbread muffins he remembers from his childhood. He wonders if the restaurant delivers, if it even exists in the first place. He pulls out his phone and calls directory assistance to acquire about the restaurant.  
  
“I’m sorry, it appears that restaurant shut down a few years ago. Would you like me to direct your call elsewhere?” the crisp voice of the operator asks.  
  
“No thanks,” Changmin mumbles, hanging up dejectedly. He sits back against the couch and huffs.    
  
“Who was that?” Yunho asks, walking into the living room.  
  
“No one,” Changmin replies quickly. He feels his ears turn red and wonders why he’s so embarrassed about a simple inquiry about a restaurant.  
  
“Oh-kay~” Yunho replies, not believing him at all. “So then do you want to tell me why you’re sitting here looking like someone just shot your dog?”  
  
Changmin’s eyes go wide as shock registers on his face. Yunho quickly counters, “No, sorry, it’s just an expression! I mean, why do you look so upset?”  
  
“Oh,” Changmin replies, calming down somewhat. He still doesn’t understand half of the phrases Yunho uses, even though he’s mostly weaned himself off of dialect. “I just… I was craving these muffins that I had as a kid, but it turns out the restaurant closed down.”  
  
“Ahh,” Yunho replies. “What kind of muffins were they?”  
  
“Cornbread muffins,” Changmin says.  
  
Yunho cocks his head inquisitively. “Like… bread made out of corn?”  
  
“Yeah,” Changmin says. He tries to describe the muffins to Yunho: the coarseness, the sweetness, the crumbliness. Somewhere between discussing the texture of the muffins and pondering the cooking technique, he finds himself telling Yunho all about the way his family used to celebrate birthdays.  
  
“I didn’t care much for presents,” he explains. “My parents are both teachers so they were usually educational instead of fun. My birthday was the one day of the year that I could pick what restaurant we went to for dinner. Since we hardly went out to eat, it was a big deal.”  
  
Yunho chuckles. “That sounds just like you, Changminnie,” he says. “Caring more about food than things.”  
  
Changmin smiles sheepishly. “Yeah,” he says. He pulls one of the pillows from the couch into his lap and hugs it tightly. All of a sudden he realizes that he really does miss his family and misses spending time with them on his birthday. He knows he shouldn’t be upset about this—he is nearly seventeen after all—but there’s still a pang in his chest. He mumbles something about having to use the bathroom and gets up from the couch to escape down the hallway. He blinks back tears once he closes the bathroom door and tries to calm himself down.  
  
*  
  
When Changmin turns eighteen, the boys pay for his portion of their nightly takeout order. They had all agreed earlier not to buy each other birthday presents, especially since their birthdays are all so close together. Changmin blows out the candle on the cheap supermarket cake they’d bought for him. He knows he should make a wish, but he can’t think of anything to wish for. On a whim, he wishes for cornbread muffins.  
  
They all decide to go to bed early on account of an early set of recordings the next day. Changmin crawls into his bed and feels something unfamiliar under his pillow. He reaches underneath and pulls out a plastic bag containing a muffin and a post-it note.  
  
_I’m not sure if this is the kind you wanted, but I hope it’s close. Happy birthday, Changdola._  
  
Changmin pulls off the post-it and finds some text on the back as well.  
  
_P.S. I tried a little bit… hope you don’t mind._  
  
He pulls the muffin out of the bag and examines it. Sure enough, there’s a little piece missing on the side. Changmin chuckles to himself and sits up, scooting to the edge of the bed. He leans over the bag and takes a bite of the muffin, careful to catch any itinerant crumbs with the bag.  
  
It’s not exactly the same as he remembers, but it’s close enough. Changmin eats the rest of the muffin quickly, his heart feeling light. Part of him had wanted to savor the treat over the next few days, but experience had taught him that muffins do not keep particularly well.  
  
He brushes his hands off into the bag and tosses it into the trash before wandering back to the bathroom to brush his teeth again. Yunho comes in to grab his own toothbrush right as Changmin spits into the sink.  
  
“Thanks,” Changmin says quietly as he rinses his toothbrush.  
  
Yunho just smiles broadly and Changmin retreats back to his bedroom.  
  
*  
  
As an apology for the completely stupid fight they’d had in Los Angeles, Yunho visits a bakery he’d heard good things about the minute they return to Seoul and buys an armful of breads for Changmin. He’d picked a variety of flavors for Changmin to try in hopes Changmin can forgive him for being a complete ass.  
  
Yunho buzzes himself into Changmin’s apartment complex and knocks on Changmin’s door, careful not to drop any of the bread. Changmin opens to find Yunho standing in the doorway looking unexpectedly repentant.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Yunho blurts out before Changmin can say anything.  
  
Changmin doesn’t reply. Instead, he just opens the door wider and steps aside to let Yunho in. They spend the afternoon sampling the bread Yunho had bought, picking their favorites and promptly spitting their least favorites into the garbage.  
  
Yunho keeps going on about the supposed health benefits of one set of muffins when Changmin says suddenly, “I’m sorry too.”  
  
“What?” Yunho asks.  
  
“I’m sorry too,” Changmin repeats. He then shoves another muffin into his mouth so he doesn’t have to say anything else.  
  
The unspoken tension in the air disappears along with the bread until both boys are stretched out on the couch watching television. Yunho breathes a sigh of relief, happy to finally clear the air.  
  
*  
  
“And cut!” the director calls. “Everybody, take five.”  
  
Changmin breathes a sigh of relief as the cast disperses. He flaps the sleeves of his robes, trying to get any ventilation possible. The summer temperatures are soaring and he’s stuck outside in full hanbok filming a drama. To make things worse, they’ve given him a _beard_ that itches beyond belief.  
  
He walks over to the shade and his manager hands him his water bottle. He gratefully sprays the water into his mouth, hoping to ease the dryness from the heat and all of his lines.  
  
“By the way,” his manager says. “Yunho stopped by earlier and dropped this off for you.” He holds up a small lunchbox with Changmin’s name on it.  
  
Changmin accepts the box gratefully but curses Yunho inwardly. They’ve both been filming for weeks now and Yunho should be resting before he enlists, not hauling halfway across town to bring Changmin food!  
  
But as he pulls the top off the box, his frustration subsides. Inside are two of the cornbread muffins that Changmin likes the best. There’s no note enclosed, but the sentiment is clear. Changmin laughs in spite of himself and offers one of the muffins to the manager.  
  
“Interesting,” he says. “What is it?”  
  
“Cornbread,” Changmin replies. “My favorite.”  
  
*  
  
After signing for the workers behind the counter, Yunho takes the bag with his purchases and bows politely. He walks out of the bakery, whistling to himself, and heads for the Seoul police headquarters. He takes his time: he isn’t expected for another hour and the police station isn’t too far from the bakery.  
  
He’s within a few blocks of the police headquarters when a thought crosses his mind. Yunho hurriedly checks through the bag to see if he had bought all of the correct breads and realizes that he’d missed the most important bread of all. He half walks, half jogs back to the bakery, his face tinged pink from embarrassment when he reenters the shop.  
  
The shop owners greet him excitedly again and ask if there was anything wrong with his purchases.  
  
“Ah no,” he says sheepishly. “I’d actually forgotten to buy something.” He orders some cornbread (for Changmin) and decides to get a chocolate donut ball for himself. He bows again and heads out, glancing at his watch. This time, he hustles down to the police headquarters and arrives just as a familiar figure walks out of the building’s main entrance.  
  
“Hey,” Yunho calls, and Changmin looks up. Yunho holds up the bag of bread and walks into the headquarters’ yard, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
He doesn’t tell Changmin he had to go back for the cornbread, but he suspects Changmin will find out soon enough.  
  
*  
  
They arrive at the bakery the minute it opens in hopes to score the freshest breads without having to encounter a legion of fans. The shop owner’s eyes grow wide as they enter the bakery and he welcomes them in warmly. Changmin and Yunho bow politely and head over to the display case to see what products are available.  
  
Changmin’s shoulders slump slightly as he realizes there is no cornbread in the display case. He tries to decide on another variety when one of the girls behind the counter opens the display case from the back and slides in a new tray filled with cornbread.  
  
They end up buying several cornbread muffins for Changmin, some donuts for Yunho, and a squid ink ciabatta to share. The two retreat to the van before anyone spots them and dig into their bounty as the manager drives them off to their next event.  
  
Yunho reaches for one of Changmin’s cornbread muffins, and Changmin doesn’t protest. Yunho takes a few bites before handing the muffin back to Changmin. “Nope, still not a fan.”  
  
“Then why did you eat it?” Changmin asks, a smile playing on his lips.  
  
Yunho shrugs. “You said once that cornbread reminded you of happy times with your family, and I wanted to see what that felt like.”  
  
“You are my family, you idiot,” Changmin replies.  
  
“Yeah,” Yunho says thoughtfully. “I guess I am.”  
  
Changmin shoves the half-finished muffin into his mouth and tries to stop his ears from turning a very bright red.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I hate cornbread.  
> 2\. I wanted to name this fic "I loaf you a lot" or "Rising Gods of the Yeast" but restrained myself.  
> 3\. Yes, 빵 means 'bread' in Korean and I'm the worst.


End file.
